


Scraped Knees

by blakefancier



Series: Bright Eyes [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Dark, Humiliation, M/M, Sexual Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-20
Updated: 2014-08-20
Packaged: 2018-02-13 22:48:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2168124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blakefancier/pseuds/blakefancier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He used to have a name, a life, but not anymore</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scraped Knees

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know. I'm sorry.

He used to have a name, a life, but except for quick flashes, he doesn’t remember either. 

These days he spends most of his time on his knees, lips stretched wide around the multitude of cocks that keep getting shoved in his mouth. At the end of the day his throat is sore and his belly is round and taut, filled to the brim with come. He curls in his cage, dirty but content, until someone comes, sprays him down and feeds and waters him. 

"Good boy," he’s told when they rub him down, then rub him off. "Good whore."

He moans at the praise, eating from his keeper's hands and when he is done, the keeper’s cock is shoved into his mouth and he sucks greedily until he receives his dessert. 

Then he’s led to his cage and he sleeps until he’s awakened the next morning and it starts over again.

***** 

Sometimes, he is led to his master’s bed and he thrums with excitement. He stretches out on the bed, his stiff cock dribbling and smearing wetness on his belly. 

When his master comes in, he rolls onto his hands and knees, lowering his shoulders to the bed and presenting his ass. 

"Such an eager whore," his master laughs and he whines, feeling empty and needy. 

It’s been days since his ass was filled and he wants to be split open on his master’s enormous cock. He wants to be left gaping and sore, his master’s come trickling out of him. Just the idea of it leaves him panting, his hips rutting frantically at the air. 

"What do you want, whore?" his master asks. 

"Your cock. Please, master, fuck my dirty hole." He grips the sheets and presses his flushed, sweaty face against them. 

"What is your purpose, whore?" 

His master touches his hips and he wails softly. Close, he’s so close. “I’m a place for you to dump your come, master. A place for your men to dump their come.” He whines as his master clenches his hips hard. “I love it,” he continues in a rush. “It’s what I want. Please, master. God please.”  
He cries out as he’s pierced by his master’s cock, stabbed and pried open, pain and pleasure becoming one. It’s what he wants, what he loves. He’s always been a tool of stronger, better men, the only difference now is that it’s pleasurable for him, he’s no longer scrambling for a place. His place is here, on his knees, or on his back, cock fucking into him. 

His own orgasm, when it comers, is inconsequential— it’s a messy little thing. But his master’s leaves him shuddering, heat and pride suffusing his body, leaving him as limp as a rag doll. 

His master leaves him there on the bed, exhausted and well used. “Filthy whore,” his master says. 

He reaches back to play with his wet, loose hole. “Yes, master.”

***** 

They give him toys to play with: large beads to stuff in his ass then pull out, rubber cocks that sometimes vibrate that he can suck or fuck, plugs he’s supposed to keep inside himself so he’s always wide and loose. 

His favorite is a stiff rubber cock he can affix to the floor with a suction cup. He slides down on the fat, lengthy toy and spends hours fucking himself on it, the nubbled head bumping along that spot inside of him, leaving him to gasp and whimper in pleasure. 

He uses the toys when the men are gone and while he enjoys himself, he misses the bitter taste of the come, the way their cocks stretch his mouth and feel heavy on his tongue, and the musky, male smell of them. He even misses the way they ruffle his hair and play with his nipples, making them red and swollen. 

Still he makes use of what he has until they come home.

***** 

He kneels at the doctor's feet, waiting patiently to be told what to do.

The doctor shifts, eyes large behind his glasses. "Are you ready, whore?"

He nods and parts his lips in an invitation.

The doctor chuckles, reaching down to pluck and pull at his nipples. "Does it hurt when I do this? Your nipples are very red."

It does hurt, but that's part of the appeal. He moans loudly and arches his back, pushing his chest against the doctor's hand.

"You are a natural whore, aren't you?" the doctor gives his nipples a final tweak, then leans back to look at him. "Play with your nipples until I tell you to stop."

He eagerly pinches and tugs at his nipples, making them burn and throb from the attention.

"Your master is pleased with your progress, whore. He enjoys how eagerly you've embraced your new role."

He preens at the doctor's words, rubbing his nipples frantically.

"However," the doctor continues, "he has confided in me that he finds your tiny prick offensive. And I must agree with him. A whore such as yourself has no need for one."

His face grows red with shame. His little embarrassment of a cock bobs and drools as he flicks his nipples.

"What is your purpose in life, whore?"

"To be a place for better men to dump their come," he whispered hoarsely.

"Yes." The doctor smiled in satisfaction. "I promised your master that I would make sure he would not be disturbed by your tiny penis again." Fear stabbed through his gut and the doctor patted his head. "Oh, don't fear, whore, you'll keep your genitals. After all, we may wish to breed you later. Now stop playing with your nipples and masturbate until you come."

It's been a long time since he's been allowed to touch his cock. He wraps his fingers around himself, moaning at the decadence of it, and begins to stroke himself. He fucks into his fist, the wet-slick sound filling the air. He closes his eyes, imagining it's his master touching him, urging him to come like the good little whore that he is. He comes with a strangled cry, spilling onto his hand.

"Good whore," the doctor praises, then urges him to his feet. 

It's feels strange to stand, his legs shake and he doesn't like the way he towers over the doctor. He prefers to feel the cold floor under his hands and knees, to look up into the faces of the men around him. 

The doctor makes him step into a pair of underwear that looks like a fabric athletic cup. They're drawn over his legs to his upper thighs, then the doctor pushes his balls up, into his body, and draws his cock back. Once that is done, the doctor draws the underwear the rest of the way up. His crotch looks smooth and flat, but his ass is still exposed for use. 

"Perfect," the doctor says, adjusting his glasses before drawing out his cock. "Get on your knees, whore. I have need of your mouth."

He drops to his knees eagerly, mouth watering at the sight of the doctor's hard, hot cock. 

***** 

His master loves his smooth crotch, rubbing a big, broad hand over it until he moans and wiggles his hips. His master chuckles, turns him over onto his belly, and caresses his ass. "Eager whore. Lift your ass."

He does, spreading his knees slightly to expose his hole. The binding and the position of his cock keep him from getting hard, but his cock still leaks and drools out his need.

His master laughs, drawing the moisture toward his hole and circling it. "You're going wet for me, whore. Why am I surprised?"

He groans as his master continues to slick his hole with his own juices. "Yes, master, I'm wet for you. Please fuck my dirty hole. Please, oh, please!"

His master shoves his face into the pillows and mounts him. He cries out as he's spread wide, his master's cock filling him in all his empty, needy places. He's fucked, hard and fast, each thrust hitting that pleasure spot, sending him reeling. He rolls his hips back, squeezing around the fat cock in his ass, whimpering happily to let his master know he's enjoying himself. 

His master laughs, reaching underneath him to pinch and pull his abused nipples, as if he's being milked. 

He loves it; he loves it so much and he rocks back faster, the bright ball of pleasure hovering in his gut expanding until it explodes. He cries out, his cock spurting; he can feel his seed splatter against the curve of his ass. His master moans, grinding hard against his ass, and he's sure he can feel his master's come fill him. 

He doesn't move when his master pulls away. He leaves his ass in the air so that his master can see the come leaking out of his abused hole. 

He used to have a name and a life and job, he knows he must have, but he doesn’t remember it, not really. He loves his life now, though. He loves the full feeling in his ass as he's fucked and the slide across his tongue as he sucks a cock. He loves the way his belly grows round and taut when he's had his fill of come. 

He looks back at his master's red, skull like face and smiles. "I love you, Master,"

His master smiles and runs a hand over his ass. "Yes, my sweet captain, I know."


End file.
